This cat is going bonkers.
No, seriously. She’s been weird before, but this is altogether different, a walk on the wild side so intense she won’t stop zooming back and forth and meowing plaintively. And it’s understandable, too, since the only home she has ever known is gone, and she’s been transported to this brand new house along with the rest of our family. I feel her pain, too, but all I can do is keep freshening her water bowl and hoping that eventually makes a difference.
This is Week 2, and while things are more put together here at the museum I still have no idea where to find most things I need. And that’s not for lack of trying either. Today I went in search of the pizza cutter, so I started in our makeshift dining room, made my way into our makeshift kitchen, and then ended up in the real kitchen, but to no avail. Eventually I was forced to extricate the pizza from the oven without having the cutter. Just when I was about to grab a large kitchen knife to jaggedly rip it apart I saw the pizza cutter. It was in a container on the back of the stove.
I sighed at that moment because that would have been the obvious place, of course. Just then the cat flew into the kitchen on a puff of air, emitting a noise that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemies. I poured her a fresh dish of water, set it down on the floor near her head, and walked out of the room. The pizza would have to wait until I figured out the laundry system, and hopefully found a pair of pants for tomorrow.
Yeah, I live here now.